Diamonds in the Rain
by Requiem of the Night
Summary: "Will we rust if we go outside?" the gold painted tin soldier asks. "Perhaps. But it is such a lovely night for wandering."


Moonlight strikes against metal in the soft, not-quite-there way that it does and makes the silver and gold paint shine. Two small pairs of glass, one blue and one aqua, open blearily and blink once, then twice. Two pairs of painted lips smiled and joined fingers squeeze delicately.

Two little soldiers stand on their shelf, the members of their little tin battalion ram rod straight around them. One, the slightly taller of the two, helps the other stand, as there wasn't enough tin to complete the last soldier's leg. They share a look and smile.

They are alive.

Down Rapunzel's locks of yarn they climb, the complete coming before his unfinished brother to make sure he won't fall. They scuttle on the roof of the paper castle, leaping from cardboard balconies to balustrades until they land with a soft twin thumps on the rose red carpet, stirring up dust.

Again, the taller helps his comrade stand and the two march towards the waterfall of curtain. Small tin fingers hook into fraying thread and the soldiers pull themselves, inch by inch, up to the sill.

It is raining. Of course, they had known this when they awoke, as the thin rays of moonshine that struck against silver and gold painted hair and two smart blue caps were thin, fragile as a spider's web as they bravely broke from the clouds.

"Will we rust if we go outside?" whispers the one-legged one, his blue glass eyes full of worry. His brother, for of course they are brothers, made from the same piece of tin, chuckles.

"Perhaps. But it is such a lovely night for wandering."

The smaller of the two can only agree as glass surveys the rain pattering against the brown, over grown grass and the rough gravel pathway leading to a door that they have never seen. His tin fingers squeeze those of his comrade nervously as the silver painted soldier opens the window just a crack with his free hand.

The one-legged soldier places his tiny hand over where his heart, a rare thing for a toy, beats against his metal chest.

"Will we lose them if we rust?" he whispers as his elder pulls him towards the crack.

"Perhaps. But the rain is playing such a beautiful song tonight."

The smaller soldier smiles sadly and hops after his companion, thin fingers clutching each other like life itself, which it might be. Who could say what would happen if they let go?

They duck, the one-legged soldier rather awkwardly, getting a few chips of golden paint peeled off of his hair, stolen by the wood above. Both just smile it off and stand, one leaning on the other, on the outdoor windowsill, listening to the rain's symphony. They sigh softly and the elder helps the smaller hop towards a strand of ivy, a firm grip on both a hand and a waist.

"Will we dance once we get down?" the gold-haired soldier asks timidly.

"Perhaps, if time allows."

The silver soldier reaches the ground first, catching his brother when he drops from the ivy and lands in out reached arms with a soft "oof." The silver-haired laughed and plants a kiss on his brother's forehead, earning a sheepish smile.

They walk, one supporting the other, to as far into oblivion as they dare. The golden one laughs and looks at the sky, fat drops of rain filling the hairline cracks in his uniform and face. The silver one just chuckles and helps the smaller lower himself to the ground, almost helpless because of the handicap.

The pair sits for a time, ignoring the thin layer of rust already spreading over their paint. Finally, the silver one stands and helps the golden up.

"Time to dance," he says with a smile. His golden little brother laughs and squeezes the elder's hands tightly.

They spin and twirl and laugh as the rust reaches up their legs with ruby red fingers, until finally they stop and sit in the rain and laugh.

"Will we die out here?"

"Perhaps, but it was worth it."

They smile and the silver soldier holds his tin brother in a warm embrace until both of their miraculous hearts stop beating.

Glass eyes are closed and rusty hands are still clutched around a painted tin back. Gold and silver paint flakes into the ground as the tin rusts away and slowly, two twin diamond hearts glitter in the shy moonshine peeking through the cloudy rains.


End file.
